Family Legacy
by RestlessMind
Summary: How do the kids of our favorite heroes and villains deal with growing up, living up to their family's reputation, and, most importantly, falling in love?
1. Of secret meetings

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter. And if I did, I wouldn't be sitting around here writing fanfiction.

Come on People! Review!

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She weaved through the throngs of people milling in the streets of a run-down Wizarding district on the outskirts of London. Blinking the torrential rain out of her eyes, she cautiously glanced out of the corners of her eyes, apprehensive that the passerby would recognize her any minute. Forcing herself to breath, she reminded herself that, in these parts, no one would know, or care, about her reputation. And besides, her terrific long and flowing silvery-blonde hair, by far her most distinctive feature, was currently stuffed into the hood of her cloak.

Coming to a halt, she squinted to read the building names, and found the one she was looking for. Hurrying across the cobblestone street, she looked with a mix of excitement at guilt at the pitch dark alley, between a squalid hotel and a closed junk shop, where she knew he would be waiting for her. Because, for all his talk about how they shouldn't be together, she knew he needed her and much as she needed him.

Taking a deep breath she entered the alley, feeling guilty for deceiving her family – and everyone for the matter – but for all her doubts, she knew she was just a naïve fifteen year old girl in love. And that scared her.

All thoughts were swept from her mind as she entered, not a dark and dingy alleyway as one might suspect, but a well-lit hall, with only skylight to reveal the stormy sky, and warmth seeping from a roaring fire in the hearth. Then she saw him, turning his piercing eyes from the crackling fire to her. And like every time he looked at her, her heart raced, and she felt like any other young girl in love. As if she could afford to be in love, even if she was. _Besides_, she mused, _what was love,_ anyway?

She shed her rain-drenched cloak and threw it over a chair, and before she knew it he was standing beside her wrapped his arms around her. It almost felt as though they might meld together. Then their lips met, that same desire and guilty pleasure coursing through her.

When they broke apart, trying to catch their breath, she smirked up at him. "That was quite a hello."

"I thought you _couldn't_ come back," he teased, a half-smile playing across his face.

She chose to ignore this remark, and reached up to touch a strand of his straight blond hair, "We're like peas in a pod with this - _hair-_ aren't we?"

He lowered his mouth to her ear, "Yours is prettier," he whispered.

"Nuh-uh." It irked her that he could strike a nerve that easily. As pretty as her mother's hair was, she would've much rather inherited the bright red locks of her father's family.

"Yeah-huh." He retorted, plopping himself onto the couch and pulling her with him, kissing her again. She found herself wishing this moment would last forever, but the ever-present monster of reason made sure she knew it wouldn't.

They caught their breath, noses almost touching, breath mingling. She looked into his blue-grey eyes, loving the way that he looked into hers. He looked _into_ her, not just at her flawless face and effortless charm that fooled the whole world into believing she was special.

"It's August 25th today," he remarked. She looked at him, slightly perturbed, and not at all liking where she thought he was going.

"_So_?"

"_So_ you're going back to school in six days. It's like this summer was just a dream. Honestly, what are we going to do? I'll never be able to see you, and you'll want to meet other guys. And, eventually, you'd have to tell everyone about me, and that's certainly not an –"

She pressed a delicate finger to his lips, "As far as I'm concerned, you are the _only _guy. Ever. And I do know how to write a letter."

"Sure, and tell all your friends you're writing to the muffin man?" his sarcasm stung. "They'd all love _that_, you, Adeline Weasley, fraternizing with Luke Malfoy, who is unfit to even exist," he paused, "that's what everyone thinks of me. And, for all their talk about how blood doesn't matter, no one has ever given me a chance."

Silence followed, leaving Luke feeling guilty (after all, _she_ had given him a chance). Adeline was simply stricken to be faced with the realities that they had for so long been avoiding. She felt a single tear slide down her face, wondering how it was possible for fate to have dealt him so cruel a hand. She marveled that fate had also destined a world seemingly free from the war and hate that had for so long plagued it to be still so divided. And, she reflected, even as Luke gently wiped away her tears, a world in which she felt so completely alone.

"Adeline…" he whispered, but was interrupted by the Grandfather clock ringing midnight.

"And now its August 26th," Adeline said as she grabbed her cloak, "I'll see you tomorrow night," she intoned before dashing out the door. Confused and conflicted, her emotions threatened to overwhelm her, and she found herself almost wishing she could turn back the clock on the past two months.

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a/n: In case anyone is confused, Adeline is Fleur and Bill's daughter, her name is french because I just think Fleur would win that argument...


	2. Of breakfast and wandshopping

Rob Lupin sat at the kitchen table very early, sipping on a cup of tea, and scanning The Daily Prophet for any news of interest. Seeing nothing other than the mundane, he sighed and folded up the paper. He heard footsteps coming down the steps that he was able to easily identify as his mother's. She promptly came down to sit next her son, who was rather stoic in comparison to the bubbly personality of his mother.

His mom's hair was a shade of honey-brown today; much more serious than some of the previous colors she had sported. He remembered when he was little and her hair was always bright shades of violet and bubblegum pink.

"What's on your mind?" she asked, laying a hand on her son's arm and jerking him out of his rather nostalgic state.

"Just thinking…"

"Rob, sometimes you think too much. At your age, well, _boy_ could I tell you some stories," she smiled reminiscently, morphing her features into those of a teenager's.

"Mum!" Rob exclaimed, slightly perturbed, "Don't do that, it's really creepy."

"Sorry, I couldn't resist," her smile faded when she looked down at her watch, then turned into a frown. "I really have to get to work; they've been telling I have to be on time…" she shrugged.

She kissed her son on the cheek and grabbed a leaf of papers from the counter, knocking over a small stack of books in the process.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Rob muttered, levitating the books back onto the counter before they spilled onto the floor.

"Thanks dear, see you later," his mom laughed before waving good-bye and dissapparating with a pop that made Rob flinch.

He drained the last of his tea, and swirled the dregs around in the bottom of his cup. Glancing into it, he chuckled to himself. There were merely a few misshapen and indistinct lumps left. He had never had much of an eye for divination, and had found that it was generally unreliable besides. _And if you could see the future before it happened, didn't that already cause it to change, because now you would try to prevent it?_ He gave up; his thoughts were traveling in a circular pattern.

His thoughts eventually turned to her, as they so often did. He knew he didn't deserve her at all, but the one person he had confessed this to (his mother, by happenstance) had smacked him upside the head, and muttered something along the lines of, "too much like your father," and "self-sacrificing git." Regardless of his guilt, he couldn't help but be excited to see her – she had been on holiday with her parents for two weeks which had seemingly lasted an eternity.

He looked up at the clock, grumbling under his breath seeing that it was only 7:30. _Really more like 7:20_. His parents liked to set the clock a little fast so they wouldn't be late – although it really just lured his mom into a false sense of security and his dad into a false panic. Regardless, he wasn't supposed to meet _her_ for at least another hour. He thought he might drive himself crazy in the meantime.

It was 8:25 when he apparated to Dumbledore Way, a small wizarding street North and East of London that had been named after an extraordinary wizard who had died shortly before Rob himself was born. He entered the tiny restaurant where they met for breakfast routinely. Taking a seat in their usual table (which gave a full view of the street – it really was quite an interesting little place) he looked for her; she was still 16, so didn't have the advantage of apparition to being on time.

He finally saw her coming down the street and waved to her, then realized she didn't have his sharpened senses that allowed him to see her so clearly at this distance. When she finally arrived, she made a beeline directly for their table, knowing he'd be there, and early at that.

She sat in the seat opposite him. Finding her irresistible, Rob leaned across the tiny table and, brushing a stray strand of dark hair out of her face, gently kissed her. Upon being released, she smiled at him impishly.

"Good morning to you too," she said, her green eyes sparkling.

"Good morning, Gwendolyn." He really just wanted to elicit a reaction for using her full name, both of them knew it.

"Rob…" she said seriously.

"Yes, Gwen?"

She laughed, and flipped her long dark hair over her shoulder. "Screw it; I can't even keep a straight face around you."

"You know, I've really missed you. I haven't had to resort to desperate measures to entertain myself."

"Yeah?" she pursed her lips, shaking her head. "Any chance of you telling me what these desperate measures were?"

"It's not important," he shook his head.

"Not important?" she raised her eyebrow. "Should I be worried?"

He sighed, "I actually came to work in Dad's store _voluntarily_. _And_ I let Breanne talk me into offering myself up as a tour guide to foreign wizards and witches – there actually were a few cute Yanks," he laughed when she hit him gently. "But they didn't seem to be nearly as interested in me as that Belgian hag…"

"Ouch. Rare books _and _foreign hags." She smiled.

"Well I had to keep my mind off of you." Suddenly she leaned forward and caught his lips with hers. She entwined her fingers in his hair as they kissed, his hands lightly holding her face.

After a moment they broke apart, realizing they were in a public (though thankfully rather deserted) place. Gwen smiled at him with flushed cheeks, her sparkling eyes looking straight into his. "I've missed you too," she whispered.

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11-year-old Lily Potter smiled up at her dad as they entered Ollivander's wand shop. She was so excited, she had already bought all of her school supplies with her dad, and now she was about to get her wand- which was, of course, the most important. One of the most interesting things about walking around Diagon Alley with her father was all the people he seemed to know – at 11, Lily couldn't even contemplate knowing that many people's _names_.

Her dad squeezed her shoulder. "Mr. Ollivander's a little…er…" he paused, "odd. But he's the best, don't worry."

Suddenly an odd looking fellow came out from between the rows of narrow shelves packed with little boxes. He surveyed her with piercing eyes.

"Hi this is my daughter, Lily," her dad said.

"Mmm, yes, named for her grandmother I see," the wand-maker nodded, "Let's see," he conjured up a magical tape measure that began taking measurements of her arms, legs, even toes.

He clucked his tongue approvingly. "Let's start you off with this one, 11 inches, Mahogany, flexible, unicorn hair," he said handing her a wand.

She waved it around, but to her dismay nothing happened. Mr. Ollivander handed another wand, and another, and another, but still nothing happened. She sighed in frustration after about ten tries, feeling this was hopeless.

"Difficult, just like your father," Mr. Ollivander muttered before disappearing into one of the narrow rows of shelving, apparently still mumbling to himself. He returned shortly, carrying a few more skinny boxes in his arms.

After several more tries, Lily had finally found a wand that suited her (it had sent a shower of purple stars) and was 10 ½ inches/swishy/rosewood with a phoenix feather.

She skipped along, feeling that this whole wand thing wasn't a wash after all. Her first year at Hogwarts was only a few days away, and her excitement was close to bubbling over. Her mom and dad had told her so many stories about their days at the Magical school. Living in Hogsmeade (for at least a good part of the year – her parents had several vacation homes) she had been to the school, but she still had no idea what it was going to be like to be a real, live student there.

Even stranger was the thought of having her own dad as a teacher. Her cousins seemed to think he was an excellent professor, but she supposed it was less weird being taught by your uncle than your father. She had asked Rob what her dad was like in school; he had said merely "Different." Being her inquisitive self, she found this a quite unsatisfactory answer.

"Dad," she said as they walked down the street, "Can I still call you Dad at Hogwarts?"

He chuckled, "Of course," he said, near to shaking with mirth. His eyes turned more serious as he continued, "Of course, I will be your Defense against the Dark Arts professor as well, so you'll have to take me seriously, and you know I can't play favorites in class."

"But I'm _really_ your favorite right?" she asked.

She shrieked as he picked her up and lifted her up onto his shoulders. It was an odd feeling to be this much taller than everyone else around her, almost like being on top of the world. And she felt like she was, because she got the best of both worlds; she was going to start her first year at Hogwarts (like all 11-year-olds she was terribly excited) but since her dad was going to be one of her professors (and more likely than not, her Head of House) she never _really_ was leaving any of her family behind, since her mom would be right down the road.

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Ginny Potter smiled as her husband and daughter came to sit next to her at the booth outside the ice cream parlor. She was going to miss her little Lily when she left on the Hogwarts Express in three days. Things were going to be awfully quiet around the house without her exuberant daughter.

But on the other hand, this meant that she would have a lot more free time to spend with Harry…


	3. Of laughter and reunions

a/n: in case anyone is confused from the last chapter, Rob is Tonks and and Remus's son, and is 17/ going into his 7th year. Gwen is is muggleborn.

Anyway - just one more important character, bear with me!

All reviews are much appreciated. :)

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Brianne sat a picnic table in the Weasley's backyard, surveying all the people around her and sipping pumpkin juice. She was currently nurturing an overfull stomach, courtesy of Molly Weasley, who even approaching old age could cook up a storm.

Suddenly she felt a presence behind her. She swung around to see Rob ducking behind her chair.

"Hide me! I see Sharon over there – she's with her _mother_," he seemed to be slightly panicked. He had used to date Sharon, but that was ages ago. She didn't understand why Sharon's mother would have anything to do with it, after all, she seemed very nice.

Feeling she was missing something, Brianne said "Why would you,"

Rob cut her off, "That woman is the devil!"

"Seems fine to me," she paused in thought, "And Sarah's mom is so much worse."

"Hey! She gave us cookies! And I should know about Sharon's mom, I dated that girl for a year!"

"And I never even dated Sarah!" Rob simply stared at her for a few seconds, and then started chuckling. His laughter set her off, and she started laughing too. She continued to laugh hysterically to the point where she fell out of her chair and gasp for breath.

"What's wrong with you?" said a familiar voice walking over. Gwen giggled as Rob pulled her into his lap.

"She cracks herself up," he told her smiling.

Brianne finally calmed down enough to speak. "I never think what I have to say is funny until you guys start laughing!" she exclaimed. "And then well –it's all downhill from there," she said helplessly.

"Anyway Brianne, I pity any guy who dates you and has to meet your parents. Your father is scary as _hell_."

"No he's not!" she cut Rob off. She never understood why everyone thought her dad was so intimidating. Rob and Gwen merely raised their eyebrows at her.

"He's like a massive wall," Rob said.

"Well, maybe he makes a bit of an impression," she admitted, after all her dad was an accomplished, oversized Auror.

"Your brother's pretty intimidating too," Gwen said, "I thought he was the Monster of Slytherin the first time I met him!" Rob and Brianne erupted into peals of laughter again at this. Brianne reflected on how weird it was that she could never stop laughing. The first time she had ever had one of her "fits" as Gwen liked to call them, she had been about ten. They had been debating what to get her dad for his birthday, and something raucously funny in her mind had occurred to her. When asked by her mother what was so funny she had breathlessly said, "We should get him his house." Ever since then she had laughed at everything, twisting it to be somehow humorous in her mind. Gwen, who she had known since first year, had never been perturbed by it – which was probably why they had become such good friends.

Sighing, she looked over at her friends. They were feeding each other ice cream, and somehow very little of it was ending up in their mouths. When Rob started licking the whip cream off of Gwen's nose, she decided it was time to leave. They were so cute together, it was quite sickening. She walked over to get a soda, and thought of all the people present. All the surviving members of The Order of the Phoenix were probably there. It was odd, she realized, how Mad-Eye Moody looked like he was on his last legs (or leg, rather) and Ginny Potter seemed barely old enough to be Lily's mother. Looking at the Potters, it scared her to think of all the shit they had been through at school; which at 16, she could scarcely imagine. It made her feel incredibly lucky to have been born in a time of peace.

She spotted her mom and dad and went over to sit between them. "Hey guys, Mom, Dad," she greeted them. It felt so funny to sit between her parents, who were opposites in so many ways. Her dad had been greeted with disapproval for marrying a muggle-born, but the animosity of her mom's family from Mississippi had been just as bad when she had married a black man. It was actually pretty ironic.

"Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley," she nodded to Bill Weasley, who's severely marred face contrasted sharply with his wife's flawless face.

"Hello zere, Brianne. You are getting quite bee-utiful, ze boys must be all over you, no?" asked Fleur a little too loudly.

Thankfully, Brianne was long past blushing. "Not really, they're generally too busy gaping at Adeline," she paused, "by the way, where is she? I haven't seen her around at all."

Bill sighed, "She said she didn't feel well. Seems to have been acting a little odd lately. I really think we should take her to see a Healer," he said turning towards Fleur, who waved her hand dismissively.

"'Ow many times do I 'ave to tell you? She is just mooning over zome boy – isn't that right, Brianne?"

"Er…" she was caught off-guard. She really didn't know Adeline all that well; she was a year below her and in Ravenclaw.

"Of course it iz'!" Fleur continued, thankfully sparing Brianne an answer.

Luckily, she didn't have to listen to the French woman much longer. It was starting to get late, and she left with her parents. She bid everyone good night, with a twinge of regret that the summer was finally over, and she'd be returning to Hogwarts for her sixth year tomorrow morning.

She made her way home, via floo, seeing as she was still underage. She stepped out of the fireplace into her living room. As she brushed the soot off herself, she shook her head ruefully, _just a few more months till I can apparate_, she thought.

Her parents immediately started grilling her to make sure she was ready to leave the next day. "Are you sure you have_ everything_?" Her mom asked for about the twentieth time.

"Yes, mum."

"Just because we have to leave pretty early, you won't have time to get your stuff together tomorrow morning!"

"Trust me, I've got it under control," she rolled eyes, "I am 16."

"I know, I know."

"Night mum, Night dad," she kissed each of her parents on the cheek before disappearing into her bedroom.

After washing her face and brushing her teeth, she looked up at her reflection in the mirror. A pair of chocolate eyes stared back at her from a coffee-colored face. She pulled her dark curls back into a ponytail.

Finally getting into bed, she was tackled by a sudden bout of insomnia. She tingled with anticipation for the next day. Sure, she was just starting out another year at school, but maybe things would be different because she was a N.E.W.T. student now – she had managed to scrape a handful of O.W.L.s in June (five to Gwen's ten). And despite her rather apathetic feelings towards returning to school just a few hours ago, she was starting to feel somewhat excited.

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a/n: To clear up any more confusion, Brianne is Kingsley Shacklebolt's daughter. Sorry, that wasn't too clear.


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